Parents’ Day in Korea and Mother’s Day in America
Parents’ Day in Korea and Mother’s Day in America
In Korea, May 8 is Parents’ Day.
My mother is now 91 years old.
Her father was an educated man who served as a township chief during the Japanese colonial era.
She was born as the second child among eight siblings in Mueol-myeon, Seonsan-gun, Gyeongsangbuk-do.
For reference, former President Park Chung-hee was also born in Seonsan-gun.
Today, the area is called Gumi.
Because of this connection, my family had known President Park’s family for many years.
A Family Marked by Tragedy
Among my mother’s eight siblings, four died during childbirth when my grandmother was giving birth.
Two sons and two daughters survived.
Tragically, both sons later drowned in a reservoir while swimming during the summer when they were young.
My mother’s older sister later died while giving birth after marriage.
In the end, my mother became the only surviving child among the eight siblings.
My grandmother lived an incredibly tragic life.
Korea in the 1940s: A Society That Valued Sons
In the 1940s, Korean society was still deeply influenced by Confucian traditions that strongly valued sons over daughters.
My grandfather abandoned my grandmother and lived with another woman in order to have a son.
Unable to endure this situation, my grandmother left with only my mother, who was then in the third year of middle school.
Without a single penny, the two moved to "Gimcheon"(a small city in the southern part of Korea) and rented a tiny one-room house.
To earn tuition money for her only surviving daughter, my grandmother sold various goods on the street market using wooden apple crates as makeshift tables.
A Poor Grandmother’s Dream
Fortunately, my mother was an excellent student.
For all three years at Gimcheon Girls’ High School, she received scholarships and did not have to pay tuition.
My mother believed that she had to support her own mother.
With that determination, she studied desperately and was accepted into a teachers college in Seoul as a scholarship student.
If she had not received a scholarship, attending university would have been impossible.
Once again, the two women moved into another tiny rented room in Seoul.
My grandmother continued working as a street vendor, while my mother studied hard throughout all her university years on scholarship.
Immediately after graduation, my mother obtained her teaching certificate and was appointed as a teacher at Daegu’s prestigious Jeil Middle School, beginning her first teaching career(At that time, Daegu was the third-largest city in Korea, known as a major center for education and culture.)".
The two women then moved again into another small rented room in Daegu.
"Daegu is often compared to major U.S. cities like Chicago or Houston in terms of its historical and economic significance."
But poverty still continued, and my grandmother kept selling goods on the street.
How Rare Was a Female College Graduate in Korea?
In Korea during the 1940s, it was almost unimaginable for a woman to attend university.
For an extremely poor grandmother who could not even afford proper clothes to send her daughter to college was nearly unheard of at that time.
There were very few universities in Korea during the 1940s.
Among Korea’s population of approximately 24 million people, less than 0.1% had graduated from college.
Women graduating from university was so rare that there were barely even statistics about it.
Korean society at the time was desperately poor.
Many people struggled to eat even one meal a day.
Korea was poorer than many African countries at that time.
For women who graduated from university, the only realistic career options were government offices, banks, or teaching.
My mother chose teachers college because becoming a teacher immediately after graduation would allow her to earn a salary and support my grandmother.
My Mother’s Life as a Teacher
My mother worked as a teacher for 16 years.
When I entered elementary school, she quit teaching.
My grandmother lived with our family for the rest of her life.
Her grave is located inside an orchard in Geochang Orchard.
The lives of those two women, especially my grandmother’s life, were unbearably harsh.
My 91-Year-Old Mother Today
May 8, Parents’ Day.
My mother still lives in the orchard in Geochang(a small city in the southern part of Korea).
She does not have dementia.
Although she does not exercise much, she still walks without a cane, and her mind seems to be getting even sharper with age.
After breakfast each morning, my younger brother takes her to a senior center in town.
There, she eats lunch with women her age and plays hwatu(A traditional Korean card game with colorful flower designs, a traditional Korean card game).
Around 3 PM, my brother drives her back home.
My younger brother lives with her and takes care of her.
A home caregiver also visits five days a week for four hours each day to help with simple cooking, cleaning, laundry, and dishes.
My mother pays about 160,000 Korean won per month (approximately $115 USD), while the rest is covered by Korea’s National Health Insurance Service.
Why I Call My Mother Every Morning
Ever since my father passed away ten years ago, I have never missed a single morning phone call to my mother.
Because I call every day, it feels as though she is always beside me.
To be honest, there is usually not much to say.
I simply ask:
“Are you feeling sick anywhere?”
“What did you eat today?”
“Are you going to the senior center?”
“It’s cold, so wear warmer clothes.”
“Please turn up the boiler temperature.”
Just simple greetings.
I do not call every day because I am an exceptionally devoted son.
I call because I am always afraid that my mother may suddenly pass away.
I am now 62 years old, but simply knowing that my mother is still alive gives me a sense that someone is still beside me in life.
Sometimes I fear that when my mother dies, I will truly become an old man myself.
What Matters More Than Carnations
I give her spending money.
Although she no longer wants to travel overseas, she still enjoys domestic trips.
I often drive her around Korea and buy her delicious meals.
On Parents’Day, giving carnations, pocket money, and taking parents out for dinner has become almost a routine tradition in Korea.
But honestly, I think the daily morning phone calls through the smartphone I hold in my hand may mean even more to my mother.
Even a brief greeting matters.
A Message to American Readers
I wonder what Americans do for their parents.
I hope Americans will also try calling their parents every morning.
Please try it at least once.
"In the 1940s, my mother fought against poverty and social prejudice to become a teacher. Today, at 91, her presence is still my greatest strength. How do you honor your parents in your country? Have you ever thought about making a simple 3-minute phone call every morning? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments."
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